“Stakeouts are the worst,” Caitlin grumbles. She glances toward the law office, then looks back at me. “Was your wife from a wealthy family?”

“Sarah? No. Why?”

“Well . . . Livy Marston is from a wealthy family.”

“So?”

“And I’m from a wealthy family. And I felt that you were attracted to me. Until Livy showed up, anyway. I just wondered if something about that background draws you in some way.”

“No. Sarah’s father was a carpenter. That’s probably how she stood the years when I was an assistant D.A. When we got rich, she wasn’t sure how to react. At first she insisted that I put every penny in the bank, not spend any of it. Save it for the kids. But after my third book hit the list, she loosened up. When we bought our house in Tanglewood, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven.”

Caitlin is watching me with a strange intensity. I reach out and touch her wrist. “Hey. I’m still attracted to you.”

She looks vulnerable, yet ready to withstand a hard truth. “But you’re sleeping with Livy Marston. Right?”

I know it’s a mistake to look away, but I can’t meet her eyes in this moment. “Did Kelly tell you that?”

“No. I just felt it. I shouldn’t say anything about it. I don’t have any right to. But I care about you. And Livy is just trying to keep you from hurting her father.”

“She hasn’t asked me to do anything like that. You don’t really know her. In some ways she hates her father.”

“Some ways. But not all.” Caitlin’s eyes hold wisdom far beyond her years. “And she’s too smart to be overt. Maybe she just wants to distract you. Maybe she doesn’t even admit her real motives to herself. But that’s what she’s doing. Protecting her father.”

“Message received, okay?”

“May I ask one more question?”

“All right.”

“Did your wife like her?”

A hollow feeling spreads from the pit of my stomach. “No.”

Caitlin looks away as though embarrassed by forcing me to admit this. I am about to speak when she grabs the video camera, zooms in on the office door, and begins recording.

“What is it?”

“The object of your obsession is parking in front of her father’s office.”

Peering through the rain, I see a silver Lincoln Town Car parked in front of Marston, Sims. A woman with shoulder-length hair sits behind the wheel. She could be Livy, but I’m not sure. Until she gets out. She walks briskly through the rain to the mahogany door, her regal carriage as distinctive as a fingerprint.

After Livy unlocks the door, Leo’s huge frame emerges from the passenger door of the Town Car, his close-cropped hair gleaming silver under the light of the street lamp.

“What the hell are they doing?” Caitlin whispers.